Father and Child Reunion

by Christine Flynn

  He felt as if he’d just taken a gut punch. Only, at the moment, he wasn’t sure which was more accountable for the sensation. The white heat he’d felt rip through him at the thought of kissing her, the fact that he’d almost done something like kiss her in anger, or the realization that he had a child.

  A child.

  He was a father.

  The night air rushing in his open window smelled of pine and dew. He sucked in a lungful of it, seeking to calm the thoughts careening through his mind. But calm wasn’t going to come easily to him. It never did. Had it been daylight, he’d have headed for his lot and exhausted himself hauling wood or hammering a few pounds of nails. But it wasn’t light, and though he would have preferred physical activity for the escape it offered, he’d have to settle for being still.

  He found himself heading for his lot, anyway, seeking solace in the only place he ever found it anymore.

  Two Falls Lake was fifteen minutes out of town and a million miles from civilization. There were several lakes in the area, but this one was too small and too inaccessible to be popular. At night, even Rio didn’t attempt the hike down to it, so he left his SUV in the clearing near the skeletal frame of his cabin and made his way to the outcropping of rock overlooking the still, black water.

  The moon trailed a wide band of light across the glassy surface of the lake. Walls of enormous firs rose up like solemn black sentinels, dwarfing everything below them. There was nothing to be heard here but the sigh of the wind, the occasional yelp of coyotes and the inner voices a man couldn’t silence.

  He shoved his fingers through his hair, too agitated to appreciate the stillness. Any other time, he could have forced himself to concentrate on the night sounds. Not now. All he could think about now was that Eve had been pregnant when she’d left years ago.

  The thought that had made him wince earlier came rushing back to him. The fact that the protection they’d used had failed was a moot point. So was his mother’s interference. Indulging his anger with her would only dredge up resentments he never allowed himself to think about, anyway. There was no changing what was done. Yet, what bothered him most was that Eve hadn’t only been pregnant—she’d been seventeen and pregnant. Had he ever given any thought to her age when he’d known her?

  He couldn’t have, Rio decided, or he’d have considered just how dangerous sleeping with her could be. To him, she’d just been Eve; the person who’d never questioned his goals, who’d looked up to him. The one person who had finally allowed him to believe in himself. Looking back now, he’d been light-years older than she was—even though he’d only been nineteen at the time. But, then, Stone Richardson, his detective friend, had once told him he’d probably been born old.

  Rio drew his hand down his face and blew out a breath. Dear God, he thought, she’d been jailbait. On top of that, her mother had been the mayor, as close to “society” as people came in Grand Springs. His home once had been a trailer on the reservation, and he’d possessed nothing but a determination to escape the specter of his father and a fire in his belly for a dream no one wanted him to pursue. It was a miracle Olivia hadn’t had his sorry hide thrown in jail.

  There were spirits to be thanked for that, he was sure. He just wasn’t sure which ones handled that sort of thing. Anyway, he was more concerned with what had happened than with what hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted a child. Not then. Not now. The problem was figuring out what to do about the daughter he’d just discovered he had.

  * * *

  It was late afternoon the next day before Eve heard from Rio. As it was, she didn’t actually talk to him. She was at the women’s shelter dropping off boxes of clothing when he called, but he’d left a message on her mom’s answering machine. It was the only message on the recording.

  “Eve, it’s Rio. I’m tied up for the next few days. If you wouldn’t mind dropping the photocopies of your mom’s address book and calendar off at the newspaper, I’d appreciate it. Stick them in an envelope with my name on it and leave it at the desk inside the main door.” There was a pause, a long one that seemed to indicate there was something else he needed to add. Something about his daughter, perhaps. But “Thanks” was all he finally said.

  Eve listened to the message again and glanced at the photocopies and the address book she’d just placed beside the photo of Molly that Olivia kept on the corner of her desk. Eve and Molly had made the copies while they’d been out.

  He’d be tied up for a few days, he’d said.

  If she were to give him the benefit of the doubt, she had to admit he might need a little time to come to grips with what he’d learned last night. Anyone would. A man didn’t wake up one morning realizing he was the father of a child he’d known nothing about without feeling a little shell-shocked. But his message hadn’t said a word about Molly….

  Eve pulled a manila envelope from the desk drawer and wrote Rio’s name on it. It was obvious what his priority was.

  Hers was to forget what she’d felt when he touched her.

  * * *

  By the following Monday, any uneasiness Eve felt about her reaction to Rio was buried under a healthy dose of frustration with her brother. Hal had come up with every excuse short of having to do his nails to avoid checking over the inventory she’d prepared for the attorney. He seemed to be avoiding everything that had anything to do with settling their mother’s affairs, and that was making her tasks as executor far harder than they needed to be.

  She was hoping Rio wasn’t going to follow suit when she walked into Clancy’s Grill, the publike restaurant where he’d asked her to meet him, and saw him slide from the booth at the back of the long, uncrowded room. Well-worn jeans hugged his lean hips, and the sleeves of his chambray shirt were rolled to his elbows, revealing strong, sinewy forearms. The wide silver band of his watch caught the light as he planted his hands on his hips, his dark head dipping in a tight, acknowledging nod at her approach.

  He looked impatient and rugged and far more sure of himself than she felt at the moment. Seeing him, all she wanted to do was turn around and walk right back out.

  “I’d have called sooner,” he prefaced the moment she reached him. “But I just got back in town last night. I was in Denver,” he added, reseating himself across from her when she slid into the high-backed booth, “so I spent the weekend looking up the people in the Denver area who were listed in Olivia’s address book. Those I hadn’t already talked to from the wedding, I mean. By the way, thanks for the photocopies.”

  If it was his intention to throw her off balance, he succeeded beautifully. She hadn’t considered that the reason she hadn’t heard from him was because he’d been away. She’d thought his silence meant he was either trying to figure out what he wanted to do about Molly, or that he had already decided and was ignoring them both.

  With an ease that was becoming all too familiar, the source of her anxiety immediately switched focus. “Did you learn anything?”

  “Nothing that helps.”

  Giving her a look that said “that’s the way it goes,” he pulled a menu from between a napkin holder and the salt and pepper shakers and held it out to her. As he did, a young girl in a tight Clancy’s T-shirt and even tighter jeans set glasses of water in front of them.

  Rio ordered a hamburger. Eve didn’t care what she ate, so she ordered the same. She doubted she’d taste it, anyway. The issues that had been raised the other night sat between them like an invisible time bomb, ticking away as surely as if the timer had been tripped and killing any trace of an appetite. By the time the waitress returned with their iced tea and departed again, Eve was wondering why she’d ordered at all.

  “Have you said anything to Molly?” he asked, just when Eve had decided to put herself out of her misery and bring up the issue herself. “About who I am?”

  She bit back a sigh. He really hadn’t understood what she’d said the other night. “I don’t know who you are, Rio. I meant that when I said it. There was so much I didn’t know about you
six years ago. I know you even less now.” Her lack of knowledge about him was as much her fault as his, she supposed. She’d never asked about his family, his home, what it was that had shaped him. But then, she hadn’t thought of him as being any different from herself. How incredibly naive she’d been. How incredibly innocent. “After all this time, we might as well be strangers. That’s what makes this all so awkward.”

  He didn’t seem to share her concern with how disconcerting she found their situation. His relief was almost as tangible as the tension tightening his jaw. “Then you didn’t tell her.”

  “I didn’t think that would be fair,” she explained, unconsciously rolling the corner of her napkin under her knife and fork. “To her or to you. And I do want to be fair to you, Rio. But Molly is my first concern. Until you’ve decided how involved you want to be with her, or if you want to be involved with her at all, I think it would be better if nothing was said. I don’t want her hurt.”

  Velvet over steel. Rio had heard the expression before, but he’d never realized how impressive the combination was until that moment. Her voice was as gentle as spring rain, but the determination in her impossibly angelic features was unmistakable.

  Just because he admired the spirit didn’t mean he appreciated the warning. The last thing he intended to do was hurt an innocent child. He knew all too well how far-reaching the actions of a parent could be.

  The waitress appeared in record time. Leaning back while she slid their plates onto the table, he wondered at how very little Eve must think of him. The thought only heightened the sense of betrayal he already felt.

  He couldn’t believe she’d said she hadn’t known that much about him. He’d shared with her everything that had mattered to him. He’d never allowed anyone to get as close as he had her. Not before and not since. Because of that he wouldn’t have felt so tremendously let down by her had he not once thought she believed in him. But he knew now that when that belief had been put to the test, she’d actually had no more faith in him than had anyone else.

  With a ruthlessness he reserved only for himself, he jammed down the resentment he wanted to feel, only to be hit again with the reality of having a child. Every time he thought about it, his stomach tightened. He’d get used to the idea, though. He had to. There were those who would swear he possessed no principles at all, but his sense of honor made denying his responsibility impossible.

  Pushing his plate aside the moment the waitress left, he crossed his arms on the table. Eve wasn’t the only one who could feel protective. She might as well learn that about him right now.

  “I don’t regard my involvement as a choice. You’re right about my not wanting to have kids, but I’ve got one now and I’ll do what needs to be done for her.”

  Mirroring his position, Eve leaned forward, her voice just as low, just as certain. “It would do her more harm than good to have a father who regards her only as an obligation. I’d rather she didn’t—”

  “She’s more than an obligation,” he growled, his eyes flashing. “She’s a child. I’m not going to do to her what my father did to me.”

  Eve went still.

  Aware of heads turning in their direction, Rio pulled a deep breath and lowered his head. Though he doubted anyone had heard what they were saying, it was apparent to anyone with a functioning brain that they weren’t discussing the weather.

  “What did your father do?” Eve whispered.

  “He left. It happens,” he muttered, dismissing the impact of that long-ago event to focus on his daughter. “But I won’t abandon Molly.” He met Eve’s eyes, bracing himself against the quick, unguarded empathy he saw there. “As for how involved I get, we’ll just have to play that by ear. How long before you go back to California?”

  For a moment, Eve said nothing. She simply studied the strong, sculpted features that betrayed nothing but the tension she’d noticed the moment she’d seen him. Whatever Rio was dealing with where his father was concerned was buried. But she now realized that his reasons for not wanting a family of his own were far more complicated than she’d thought. He was more complicated than she’d thought. But while she found his conviction to do right by his daughter admirable, she also found it threatening.

  “I don’t want to go back until the house is sold,” she told him, amazed by how rational she sounded when another piece of her life was slipping from her control. “Or before the police finish their investigation. But school starts in September, so I’ll have to be back by then.”

  “What about your job? I understand you’re an interior designer. It was on the police report,” he added, since she looked as if she didn’t know where he’d come by the information.

  “I’m on a leave of absence.”

  “So you’ll be around for a couple of months.”

  “Probably.”

  “How much support do you want?”

  Her brow creased. “Support?”

  “Money.”

  “Is that what you think?” The furrows in her forehead increased in direct proportion to his. “That this is about money?”

  “Isn’t that part of it?” he muttered, not sure why her back was up. “I figure it’s something we need to talk about. I’m new at this, Eve. I’ve never had a kid pop out of the blue before, so forgive me if I don’t know the right place to start or how to approach this in a logical order.”

  He didn’t want to argue with her. From the way she closed her eyes and rubbed the middle of her forehead, it appeared that she didn’t, either. It was just that, knowing she was supporting the child alone, his concerns had immediately gone to the practical.

  What Eve wanted was something more complicated than that.

  “If you truly want to be part of her life, then all I want right now is for her to get used to you, and for you to get to know her. We’ll start out slow and see what happens. This changes my life as much as it does yours, Rio. Let’s not make it any harder than it has to be.”

  She didn’t hide how wary she was about the situation. He doubted she could if she tried. But now he noticed the weariness that shadowed her eyes and put the faint plea in her voice.

  “We’ll do it your way,” he conceded, though it wasn’t much of a concession, considering he had no definite concept of where else to start. “It’s probably best for Molly to ease into the idea of having a father. I could use a little more time to adjust to the idea myself.

  “As for what you keep implying about you and me being strangers,” he added, his voice skimming her nerves like the low rumble of distant thunder, “I wouldn’t go quite that far. We’ve slept together. We created a child together. At one point, I even thought we were friends.”

  The recrimination in his words was subtle. But it was there. It was there, too, in the ebony eyes that so steadily held hers.

  He didn’t seem to expect a response. There was none she could give him, anyway. Despite the doubt he’d expressed, they had been friends. They had shared their bodies with each other. Molly existed. But there was something about facing their intimacy head-on that removed any possibility of pretense at that moment. He had taught her how to make love, how to respond to him, to his touch. That was how close they had been.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t help the way her pulse picked up speed at the thought. From the way Rio’s eyes darkened as he quietly watched her now, he seemed to be remembering that, too.

  The memories shimmered between them, enlivening nerves and making the air feel too thick to breathe. But those memories were surrounded by the walls the years had built. Far too much had happened for them to ever regain the innocence of their beginning.

  As he deliberately looked away, Eve knew the trust they’d once shared could never be the same.

  Chapter Four

  It had taken some doing, and more than another week, but Eve Stuart finally coerced her brother into looking over the inventory she’d prepared of their mother’s earthly possessions. The message she’d left on Hal’s voicemail had finally
done the trick. She’d made it clear that it wasn’t his help she was after. Or his approval. She didn’t need either. She wanted him to review what she’d prepared only because she didn’t want to leave him out of anything. But if he wasn’t interested in what was going on with the estate, she’d have the attorney file the inventory as it was. Tomorrow. Before the first of August.

  She’d left the message that morning. Hal himself had arrived a few minutes ago, just as she and her daughter, Molly, were finishing the lasagna her neighbor, Millicent, had brought over. He’d promptly declined her offer of a drink or something to eat and, with little more than a perfunctory “Where is it?” proceeded to pace the dining room while he studied the long yellow pad she’d handed him.

  Eve couldn’t see him from where she stood at the sink, surrounded by copper pots and the wildflower-patterned plates visible through the glass doors of the cabinets. But every minute or so she could hear the sharp crackle of a page being quickly turned. The sound was as agitated as Hal himself.

  Had she thought it would do any good, she’d have gone in there with him. She knew he hadn’t been inside the house since the funeral, so his being here had to be difficult for him. There were so many memories a person had to sort through when faced with a loss, and being eight years older than she, he had eight more years of memories to deal with than she did. But he didn’t seem to want whatever support she could have offered. He just wanted to get the job done so he could leave.

  She turned the water off at the sink and reached for the towel. As she did, she became aware of voices drifting through the foyer from the front porch. The low tones were definitely male. The higher ones were Molly’s giggle.

  The male voice didn’t belong to Hal, either.

  Since Molly and her teddy bear were outside playing with her dolls, Eve had left the front door open. The little girl liked the big railed porch with its wicker chairs and potted geraniums better than the backyard because, out front, she could watch the big kids play.